What Price Glory
by Nozem
Summary: The tale of witch-hunter captain Waldemar Schmidt


1 Chapter 1 – The road to Kellberg  
  
The moon reflected peacefully in a large puddle that lay beside the road. The water rippled and the reflection blurred as a stone was cast into it. The caster of the stone bent over to pick up another one as he slowly walked over the soggy gravel.  
  
"Schmidt, do we have to walk for much longer before we reach Kellberg?" spat the man as he rubbed his stubbled chin.  
  
A large man carrying a torch turned around and held up his hand. Half a dozen men who were following him stopped and started to make complaints about their sudden pause. The man walked between them to face the one that had made the comment.  
  
You shall address me as captain Schmidt Gustaff… I am your leader and superior…" he said as he held the torch painfully close to Gustaff's face.  
  
As the heat of the flames started to singe the hairs on his head the warrior-priest Heinrich laid his hand on Schmidt's shoulder. The witch- hunter turned his head and looked the ageing man straight in the eyes. Heinrich shook his head as he removed his hand from Schmidt's shoulder.  
  
"Let the man go Waldemar… He knows not what he does," said the warrior- priest, "if you choose to deal judgement amongst your own men who will there be left to fight the forces of evil?"  
  
Schmidt backed away from Gustaff and the frightened man slumped to his knees, thanking various deities that he was still alive. The witch-hunter turned to face Heinrich and gestured him to walk with him. They walked over to a rotting tree that lay along the side of the road, uprooted by some unknown force. Schmidt sat down and looked into the darkness ahead. Heinrich remained standing, as he had been taught in the monastery, keeping an eye out for hidden danger.  
  
"The man had no right to address me like that, Heinrich," Schmidt said, "it is the duty of a captain to make sure his men remain faithful."  
  
He pointed to a cluster of lights that lay in the direction they were heading in. In the relatively bright light of the moon small plumes of smoke could be seen rising from what were probably houses. With a heavy grunt caused by age and stress he heaved himself up and walked back towards the men that waited on the road. Heinrich followed him silently.  
  
"Hear me, faithful followers of Sigmar!" Schmidt said as he looked at the rag-tag bunch, "we approach Kellberg… You'll be able to catch a few hours of sleep before we set off for the City of the Damned! Let us not falter now and press on to reach its safety!"  
  
Slowly but surely the group made its way to the village. Gustaff had remained out of sight of Schmidt, mostly because the experience with the torch made him fear the over-zealous witch-hunter.  
  
Every few hundreds yards of road was marked by a crucifix. As the group passed them Schmidt ordered one of the men to burn it, to show that no trace of the evil forces afoot in this region of the empire should be left behind. The corpses that had been nailed to the crucifixes weren't human. Deformed and mutated limbs showed that these beings were once the foul agents of chaos.  
  
"What on earth is this place?" murmured one of the men as he set yet another blasphemous trophy ablaze with his torch.  
  
Schmidt walked on, determined not to show the fear that he felt in the pit of his stomach. He fingered the grip of the sword that hung in the scabbard fastened to his waist to ease his mind. Heinrich started to recite a prayer to boost morale but Schmidt held his hand up to silence him.  
  
"We have ventured into the home of pure evil!" he spoke whilst keeping his eyes on the village that lay just beyond the next bend in the road, "and it is our duty to free the land from its grasp! And so it shall be done!"  
  
A reinforcing roar rose up from the men as they held their swords and maces up in the air. As the sound pierced the cold night air clouds began to gather, hiding the moon and plunging the land into total darkness.  
  
With doubled pace the group made their way to the village, stopping at a rather unpleasant surprise that awaited them on arrival.  
  
"Halt! Who goes there at this time of night?" shouted a guard through a small hole in the large wooden gate.  
  
Kellberg had learned its lesson about safety after being attacked on several occasions by all sorts of foul beings. The villagers had raised a wall made out of timber around the village. Even though it would not stand a chance against an organised foe, it held its own against the uncoordinated attacks of the mindless beasts that plagued their home.  
  
"I am captain Waldemar Schmidt of the sacred order of the Templars of Sigmar," Schmidt replied, "I wish to enter your village to rest after a long journey and to gather information."  
  
The guard disappeared out of view and voices could be heard from behind the gate. When the guard reappeared a second man was by his side. Even in the low light of the torches Schmidt could see that this man was considerably older than the first.  
  
"You may enter Kellberg on the condition that you surrender your weapons to us on entering," said the older man.  
  
Complaints rose from the men behind Schmidt but his raised hand once again commanded that they kept their mouths closed. He walked up to the hole in the gate and looked the man straight in the eyes.  
  
"I am captain Waldemar Schmidt of the sacred order of the Templars of Sigmar," Schmidt repeated, "let us enter your village or face the wrath of our protector!"  
  
The old man behind the gate began to chuckle, to Schmidt's irritation. He looked at the witch-hunter and shook his head.  
  
"My son, do you not know that Sigmar has abandoned these lands?" he asked Schmidt, "even if he does keep watch over us, why does he not help us when we are in need?"  
  
Schmidt clenched his fists to keep his rage in check. His right hand moved towards the seethed sword that rested against his leg. Heinrich walked over to Schmidt and grabbed his wrist. He slowly pushed him back from the gate whilst making an apology to the old man behind the gate.  
  
"Waldemar, please try to understand that these villagers are plagued by the forces of evil," he whispered to Schmidt, "I think it is best if we do as the man says, there is no need to make new enemies so long as old ones still draw breath."  
  
Schmidt sighed and nodded at Heinrich. He slowly walked towards the gate, undoing the belt that his scabbard was hanging from. He held the seethed sword up in his hands as he looked at the old man.  
  
"I agree to your term, on the condition that you lend me and my forces full cooperation in our quest," he said to the man.  
  
The old man nodded and signalled the guard to open the gate. With a loud creaking the large gate opened and Schmidt and his men walked in. Inside the old man was waiting for them. Now fully visible Schmidt could see the robes that the man wore. Judging by the intricate patterns woven into the cloth he was probably the village elder.  
  
"Welcome to Kellberg gentlemen," the elder said, "I am Sigmund, the leader of this village." 


End file.
